


give and take

by deadlifts



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dimitri is the king of consent, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, a mild and fun power struggle, claude is always in charge, d/s dynamics, felix sheds a single tear, i as a writer embrace some tropes, this fic is jealousy-free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21808597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlifts/pseuds/deadlifts
Summary: Claude and Dimitri decide to invite Felix into their bedroom. He readily accepts.Or: Dimiclaudelix rolls off the tongue, much like Dimitri’s former nickname when Felix’s control absolutely ruptures beneath Dimitri’s touch, to Claude’s absolute delight.Or: Felix learns a lesson about setting rules.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Claude von Riegan, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 30
Kudos: 306





	give and take

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags! This is meant to be fun D/s dynamic exploration with Claude and Dimitri pulling Felix into the fold. Everyone is fully informed and into it.

He mentions it to Dimitri on the third night of his visit to Fhirdiad, while they lie in Dimitri’s bed, spend and soiled, Dimitri’s chest rising and falling under Claude’s head. 

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Claude murmurs, amusement in his tone. “At us.” 

He can tell Dimitri is frowning without looking up at him. “I doubt he thinks of me in that way.” 

Claude clicks his tongue. “I think of you in that way. Why is it so hard to consider that others might, too?” 

Dimitri’s fingers trace the jagged skin along Claude’s shoulder blade, outlining a scar from the final battle they fought together. “Of all people, he would be the least likely to see me that way.” 

“Of all people, he would be the most likely,” Claude corrects. “After me, of course.” 

Dimitri falls silent. Claude knows he’s considering the possibility and second-guessing his interest in exploring it. He allows a few moments for Dimitri to mull it over, then suggests, “Why don’t you ask him? Then you’ll get your answer.” 

“If he gets angry at me...” Dimitri trails off. 

“He’ll throw a tantrum for a few days and he’ll get over it, same as always.” Claude finally looks up at him, smiling at Dimitri’s concerned expression. “But I bet you’ll be surprised.” 

“You are usually correct about these things,” Dimitri allows. 

“I’m always correct about these things.” He raises his head to lazily brush his lips against Dimitri’s. “You’ll see.” 

* * *

Felix readily agrees. When Dimitri tells Claude about his response the following night, bewildered by Felix’s interest but animated in his excitement, he asks Claude how he wants to have them. Claude tells him that the first time is for Dimitri alone — he can have Felix however he wants, and Claude will merely watch. 

It is equally for their sake as his own. Felix is so uptight, Claude figures he will benefit from being eased into the situation, and he knows that Felix will enjoy being the sole object of Dimitri’s attention for a while. Claude also feels it will benefit Dimitri’s confidence to have Felix at his mercy without any additional help. Even more than consideration for them, however, is Claude’s desire to watch Felix in action — to learn about his body and its reactions from a distance before he brings Felix to his knees. 

On their chosen night, Claude pours himself a drink and drags a chair beside the bed, close enough to see everything in detail, but with enough distance that he will not be in the way. Felix stands with his arms folded, looking between Dimitri and Claude as though he’s already annoyed with the situation, but Claude doesn’t miss the anticipatory tension in his shoulders and the way his gaze lingers on Dimitri’s hands as Dimitri removes his gloves. 

“Pretend I’m not here,” Claude offers, sipping his drink and making himself comfortable in the chair. 

“How are we supposed to do that?” Felix grumbles. 

“I will help you forget he is there,” Dimitri tells Felix, his focus already dedicated solely to him. 

Even in the candlelight, Claude can see the faint flush in Felix’s cheeks. “Fine.” The word is sharp, an attempt at hiding how flustered he feels. Felix sits on the bed and pulls off one of his boots, the action bordering on violent. 

Dimitri rests a hand on Felix’s leg, stopping him. “I would like to undress you, if you’ll allow me.” 

“Fine,” Felix says again, dropping his boot and then resting his hands on the bed. 

Dimitri drops to his knees to remove Felix’s other boot. Compared to Felix’s rough treatment of his first boot, Dimitri is meticulous and slow, easing it off of Felix’s foot with a degree of consideration that makes Felix glare at him in impatience, though he holds his tongue for now. 

Delivering the same amount of care to the rest of his clothing, Dimitri takes his time in undressing Felix — slowly removing each piece, allowing his fingers to brush over revealed skin each time he tugs at a hem. He pays particular attention to Felix’s waistline, hooking his fingers in his waistband and running them across the length without making any attempt to pull the fabric away. This action makes Felix curl his hands into fists, his body tensing in an effort not to buck forward. 

“Get on with it,” he hisses between clenched teeth. 

Dimitri murmurs an apology, but still takes his time in easing away both pants and undergarments. Once Felix is free from the waist down, Dimitri pulls back to look at him, whispering his name in fascination, as though he can’t quite believe that Felix is truly partially naked before him — truly hard for him, already, as though the act of undressing was more than enough foreplay. 

Neither of them are looking at him, but Claude still raises his glass to his lips to hide his smile as he considers how long Felix must have wanted this, and how amazed Dimitri is that he would be aroused for him at all. 

“Will you finish what you’ve started?” Felix asks, looking away from Dimitri. He accidentally meets Claude’s eyes, then looks away from him, too. 

“Of course,” Dimitri says softly. He moves on to his shirt, remaining on his knees as he works. Claude can tell that Dimitri is trying to pick up the pace as Felix requested, but his fingers still linger over his collarbone, his ribs, the scar along his abdomen. 

When Felix is fully nude, Dimitri allows a finishing touch. He leans in, close but careful not to press into Felix, and reaches behind him to free his hair of its tie. Felix’s hair, longer than it was during the war, falls along his shoulders. 

Claude has to admit that he looks good like that — vulnerable and open, ready to be claimed. 

"Would you like to undress me?” Dimitri asks. 

“If you insist.” Felix shoves himself off of the bed and then motions Dimitri to his feet. 

Dimitri stands, frowning. “I am not insisting —” 

“Just shut up,” Felix interrupts. He works at Dimitri’s clothes in a way that can only be labeled as unrefined — yanking and pushing, grumbling when pieces snag. Twice, Claude hears fabric stretch in protest; he has to resist the urge to laugh in response. 

Dimitri stands patient and quiet for the whole event, watching Felix fondly even as Felix struggles and complains. When the deed is done and he, too, is naked, he cups Felix’s cheek and lowers his head to offer him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Thank you.” 

Embarrassed, Felix drops his stare and mutters, “What’s next?” 

“First,” Dimitri says, tilting Felix’s head upward again so he can brush his thumb along his lips, “I must know. Do you truly want this?” 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Felix snaps back. 

“I need to know, Felix. I need to hear it.” 

Felix glares at him, but relents, with effort, “Yes, I want this, now can you stop talking?” He glances at Claude, who raises his glass in a gesture of support, which earns him a glare of his own. 

“Very well.” Dimitri gently urges Felix backward to the bed. When Felix sits instead of lying back, Dimitri effortlessly lifts and adjusts him, setting him back against the pillow. Felix appears exceptionally annoyed by being lifted in that manner, which Claude takes as a sign that he enjoyed it more than he wishes to let on. 

Dimitri lies beside him, opposite of where Claude sits, so Claude can have full view of Felix as he reacts to what is to come. Then he leans in to kiss Felix. 

Dimitri loves kissing, and kisses in a way that makes Claude feel as though he is the most treasured man in all of Fódlan and its surrounding lands. Often, when he and Dimitri are deep in play, Claude uses kissing as a reward; though if he’s honest, he has to admit it is as much of a prize for him as it is for Dimitri. Right now, however, Dimitri has free reign of Felix, and Felix seems to enjoy Dimitri’s unfettered attention, because as Dimitri deepens the kiss and gently parts Felix’s lips with his tongue, the only sound that Felix makes is a low whimper in the back of his throat. 

Claude prides himself on his self-control, but that whimper transitions him from watching with a clinical focus to watching with a more vested interest. If Felix can be made to whimper like that so early, over something so simple, what noises will he make when he is in the throes of passion? 

Meanwhile, Dimitri’s hand begins to map the expanse of Felix’s body — fingers smoothing the skin of his shoulder, his chest, ever-so-lightly squeezing a nipple, traveling downward to his hip. Felix’s body tenses in a way that makes it seem as though he’s fighting against the pleasurable sensations, like he’s afraid to relax and let himself enjoy it. When Dimitri rests his palm along Felix’s inner thigh, the tension gives way to a rippling tremble. 

Dimitri pulls back to look at Felix, a crease in his brow as he asks, “Are you cold?” 

“What?” Felix is breathless, the word barely vocalized. “ _No_.” Claude can tell he is trying to be annoyed, but the word is tinged with longing. 

“Good,” Dimitri murmurs. He dips his head to Felix’s collarbone, runs his tongue along the groove. When he speaks again, it is against newly flush skin. “I would hate to cover you up.” 

“Nnn,” is Felix’s incoherent reply, real words lost as Dimitri’s hand travels from thigh to taint, fingers grazing the stretch of skin and coming to rest just under his balls. 

Felix’s expression loosens — his eyes shut and crinkle at the edges, his lips part with a shaky inhalation — and his body quivers as he tries to resist what Claude knows he must feel: the urge to buck, to beg, to whine. He fights it, his hands fisting the blanket instead of seeking Dimitri, and it’s a beautiful sight. Claude’s cock twitches in response to it, and it takes a massive amount of effort not to offer Dimitri any instruction, to remain an observer. 

But Claude is nothing if not controlled. 

Dimitri is controlled, too, having experience in being denied and in denying himself. He is hard and wanting, and Claude can tell that his desire is tempted with each minute reaction to his touch, but he doesn’t give in. He remains focused on his task. 

Dimitri nips along Felix’s shoulder now, leaving gentle love bites along the path to his neck, which he then decorates with a sucking kiss — one that will mark, Claude notices, and remind Felix of what occurred long after it is done. Claude smiles at that — it is a nice touch. 

Then he shifts to reveal the waterskin, filled with oil, on which he has been lying in an effort to warm it. To apply it, he has to remove his hand; when he does, Felix finally allows a slight arching of his hips, a silent cry of longing. 

Dimitri has had enough practice that he is deft in the way he quickly opens the skin, pours the oil on his hand, and sets the skin out of the way. All in all, Felix is untouched for barely a minute. 

Then Dimitri _really_ touches him. Takes him in his hand and strokes, long and slow, and leans in close to whisper words that are, it seems, for Felix’s ears only. Which Claude doesn’t mind at all — not when whatever Dimitri says makes him gasp and lose his tightly wound control. Now, one of Felix’s hands finds Dimitri, grabs for him blindly, pulls him close. His breathing quickens, a staggering in-and-out that reminds Claude of a cornered rabbit. 

“Dima,” Felix half-gasps, half-sobs, as Dimitri begins to stroke with quicker movements. 

Felix’s face crumbles, his resolve in pieces. But Claude doesn’t get to fully enjoy the sight, because he raises his hand to cover it, shielding his eyes and mouth. 

Though Claude had intended to remain silent, he also intended to watch, and Felix is obscuring his view. “His hand,” Claude says, simple words, but Dimitri understands immediately. He continues to stroke Felix but shifts so that he can use his free hand to pull Felix’s away from his face. He holds it, gentle but without any give, so Felix cannot cover his face again. 

Which means Claude gets to see the moment that it all becomes too much — the way his body shudders, the way he opens his eyes in startled wonderment before shutting them tightly once more, the way he cries out wordlessly. And that single tear that stains the corner of his eye and falls back onto the pillow as he cums into Dimitri’s hand and all over himself. 

The aftermath is just as pleasing. Felix is too vulnerable to put his guard back up, too surprised by the overwhelming reaction of his body. He shakes with rolling aftershocks as Dimitri carefully wipes him up, before settling beside him and taking him in his arms. 

Felix allows himself to be held until his breathing evens out and he can speak with some control over his tone. 

“I —” he begins, then swallows. Weakly attempts to pull away from Dimitri. 

He seems to remember Claude, then, and looks over at him. Claude has nothing but his own hunger to offer after such a show, but he forces his expression to remain only mildly interested and ignores his own erection. 

“Do I —” Felix tries again, but words seem to be difficult for him. 

Dimitri waits patiently. Claude waits impatiently, but pretends to be patient. 

“I’m going,” Felix finally settles on saying, shoving completely away from Dimitri and pulling on his clothes as quickly as possible. 

They had anticipated this. It’s why Claude suggested starting slow. 

When Felix leaves, neither of them are disappointed; they have each other to finish their night, and the memory of Felix’s orgasm is so fresh that the mere thought of it is enough to put them right back into the appropriate headspace once Claude says, “Come here,” and Dimitri takes his place at his feet. 

* * *

After, when they are both satisfied and enjoying the afterglow, Claude asks, “So...Dima?” 

“A nickname,” Dimitri explains. “He has not called me that in years.” 

“What did you call him?” Claude asks, curious. 

“Fe. But only rarely. He never liked his nickname.” 

Claude files that information away for later. 

* * *

The next time Felix enters their bedroom, Claude is once again seated in his chair. This time, however, Dimitri is sitting at his feet, naked, and Claude is idly running his hand through his hair. Though Dimitri briefed Felix on the evening’s plans, Felix still manages to look surprised. Perhaps he didn’t expect that they’d be so prepared for his visit. 

“Have a seat,” Claude says, gesturing to the bed. “It’s your turn to watch.” 

Felix sits, stiffly, at the edge of the bed. He stares at the floor, rather than at Dimitri, but his eyes tug in his direction every so often. Claude’s chuckle is internal; he remains all-business on the surface. 

It is time for Felix to learn what Dimitri is to Claude, and how he will be slotted into their relationship. For this, Claude must maintain a strong front and put on a good show; he must make Felix _want_ and _offer_ , and then he will take. 

He slides his fingers along Dimitri’s scalp, encloses them around his hair, and tugs. Dimitri gets to his knees and crawls into position, in front of Claude. He then nudges his way between Claude’s legs, one hand on either side of him, gripping the arms of the chair, careful not to touch his body. Only his head moves, asking a silent question as it presses between his legs. 

Claude watches Felix, who is frowning with the same level of focus he uses when training, as he does when trying to figure out a new combat art. For good measure, Claude winks at him. Felix does his best impression of Highly Unamused, but he has trouble maintaining that front when he’s flustered. 

Between his legs, Dimitri whines, low and pleading, but without verbalizing. Claude parts his legs marginally, but offers no more than that. Dimitri sighs against him, the exhalation deep with longing. 

“Let me hear you,” Claude instructs. 

Dimitri mewls into his thigh, then raises his pitch as he mewls a second time, supplicating. When Claude doesn’t react, his plea becomes more desperate, stretched out in yearning. 

Only then does Claude nudge him and say, “You may.” 

Though Claude is and will remain fully clothed, he is wearing his light Almyran attire, which provides Dimitri with easy access to his cock. Dimitri pulls the fabric away with his teeth, careful and practiced. Claude is barely erect; though Dimitri’s prostrations are easily enough to put him in the right frame of mind, this is less about his pleasure and more about the game. 

Dimitri will have to work for it. 

Claude relaxes into the chair while Dimitri works with only his mouth, his two hands still planted firmly on either side. He begins slowly, continuing his earlier nuzzling, only this time, against Claude’s length. He soon graduates to tracing the base with his lips. 

Allowing himself a lazy pet of Dimitri’s head, Claude says to Felix, “He’s very well-behaved, isn’t he?” 

Felix doesn’t seem to expect conversation, though Claude thinks he should; if anything, he should realize that Claude’s self-control can extend even throughout a blowjob. He’s certain that if he had to, he could even discuss trade politics or peace treaties while full-on fucking. Not that he would enjoy such pillow talk, but control is all about mind over body. 

Felix clears his throat. “If you call it that.” 

“What would you call it?” Claude asks as Dimitri takes his first lick, a trail of wet warmth along Claude’s cock, which begins to respond in earnest to the contact. 

“He’s humoring you,” Felix grumbles, though he seems to be having trouble pulling his attention away from said _humoring_. 

Claude laughs, genuinely amused. “Are you humoring me, Your Majesty?” 

Dimitri’s response is a low rumble that emerges from his chest, nearly a growl. He then he takes Claude into his mouth. 

The sudden envelopment of his cock is almost enough to crack Claude’s focus, but he steels himself and doesn’t even allow for a small gasp. Dimitri’s mouth takes him fully, down to the base, then eases all the way up to his crown. 

“He said no,” Claude translates for Felix. 

Felix may also be fully clothed, but fabric can only hide so much. Claude can see the effect that Dimitri’s sounds and actions have on him, even if he wants to act toward tough and unmoved. 

“But you,” Claude continues, “are welcome to humor me, if you want.” 

Dimitri swallows him again and Claude nearly loses the last part of his sentence, but he refocuses and offers Felix a welcoming smile. 

“How?” Felix asks, in a way that Claude suspects is supposed to sound disinterested, but the delivery is tinted by too much curiosity. It is obvious that Felix wants to do more than merely watch, so Claude will indulge him. 

“Come here.” 

Felix stands, tense, like he’s about to walk onto a battlefield, and approaches. 

“Look at him.” 

Felix looks. 

“See his hair?” 

It’s in the way, and Dimitri isn’t permitted to use his hands for anything, so it plasters to his face and clings to Claude’s body while he works. 

“Hold it back for him.” 

“That’s it?” Felix asks, rediscovering his scorning tone. 

Dimitri has started sucking him in earnest now, so Claude has to afford himself a brief moment to fight off the desire to moan, because Dimitri is _very_ good with his mouth, and Claude has the sense that he’s feeding off of Felix’s proximity, too. 

“If you’re bored,” Claude replies once he trusts his voice, “you can leave.” 

“I’m not _bored_ ,” Felix argues. “I’m...” 

_Pretending to be,_ Claude’s mind supplies, though he holds his tongue. Truth be told, he doesn’t mind the way Felix wars with himself; in fact, he kind of likes it. It’ll be all the more satisfying to strip away his prickly armor later. 

“Capable of more,” Felix finishes. “Obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Claude repeats, though Felix has yet to prove that. He ran away last time, after all, without reciprocating. “But this is all I need from you right now.” 

With a put-upon sigh, Felix positions himself behind Dimitri, gathers up the strands of his hair, and holds it behind his head. He then fixes Claude with a nicely petulant glare. 

Dimitri responds to the grip in his hair by humming around Claude’s cock, the vibrations causing Claude’s eyelashes to flutter, nearly shut. He still doesn’t gasp, but he allows a deep inhalation and an equally strong exhalation. 

Whether or not he does it on purpose, Felix ends up leaning forward a little, so that his upper body is tilting in Claude’s direction. Claude finds that interesting, so he sits up, pushing himself deep into Dimitri’s throat, to close the gap between himself and Felix. 

Claude rests his forehead against Felix’s. He whispers, “Good boy,” and watches as Felix’s face wages a war between anger and embarrassment, with a hint of hidden pleasure. Regardless of the many emotions that cycle across his face, he doesn’t pull back. In fact, he leans in even more, almost as though... 

“Now, now,” Claude chides, keeping his tone gentle, “in this bedroom, you have to earn the right to kiss me.” 

Felix's intimacy transitions to anger. “I wasn’t trying to kiss you,” he hisses. 

"Then I guess I won’t tell you how you can earn that right,” Claude replies easily. 

“Fine,” Felix grumbles, pulling back so quickly, he whips Dimitri’s hair with him. That elicits a hungry moan from Dimitri, which of course is directed around Claude’s cock. 

But this has gone on long enough. Claude has made his point, Felix is back to denying himself pleasure, and Dimitri is vying for Claude’s climax, so Claude bends to kiss the top of Dimitri’s head and says, “Make me cum.” 

That’s all Dimitri needs to hear. He sucks with greater fervor, just the way Claude likes it, and moans into him again. Dimitri spares no effort in getting him close, and Claude finally permits himself to gasp, although he is careful not to give in _too_ much — he doesn’t groan or grunt. 

Then he’s there. He presses forward, deep into Dimitri’s mouth, and he grabs Felix’s hand, which still clutches Dimitri’s hair. Felix’s focus snaps to him, and Claude cums like that — Dimitri’s mouth and Felix’s attention at his command, cumming into Dimitri’s throat while Felix stares, enraptured despite himself — for a fleeting moment, openly wanting. 

* * *

The following day, Dimitri tells him that Felix has a request for their next night together. 

“What is it?” Claude asks. They’re having lunch together before they resume meetings for the day; they don’t have much time to make plans. The evening will be busy as well, as they are holding a small party as a way to honor Claude’s visit. All their friends will be in attendance. 

“He would like us to take you. Together.” 

Claude looks up from his plate, eyebrows raised. “That’s quite the leap. I wonder if it’s because of the kiss.” Felix could deny it all he wants, but he definitely had been leaning in for something more than forehead touches. “What did you tell him?” 

“That he would have to earn it.” 

Claude smiles and reaches to take Dimitri’s hand. “You know me so well.” 

Dimitri smiles at him and lightly squeezes his hand in response. 

Claude already has a plan. 

* * *

It’s simple, really: all Felix has to do to earn the right to one of Claude’s orifices is hold his tongue throughout the second half of the party, after the initial reunion excitement has died down. Claude signals to him when it is time. Felix already knows the rules: no matter what is said to him, no matter by whom, he cannot speak. He must only smile, nod, and gesture. 

If he succeeds in not speaking throughout the rest of the night, then he will get what he wants. 

Naturally, Claude has enlisted some of the best minds in attendance to help make things a little difficult for Felix. He doesn’t explain the details, of course, but he mentions a wager and a vested interest in having Felix lose, and that’s all it takes for everyone to have fun. 

Claude watches as Sylvain talks Felix’s ear off for a very long time, and notes that Felix’s smiles and nods become particularly scary during specific parts of their conversation. 

Hilda asks Felix if he’ll help her with her hair, which has come loose, since he’s _so good_ with his own. When he responds with stony silence, she begs and pleads and accuses him of being angry with her until he finally, silently relents. 

Even Annette gets in on the fun, asking Felix if he would like to hear her new song, which _almost_ gets him to speak — Claude sees him open his mouth, then shut it abruptly. 

In the end, though, Felix manages to hold out throughout the rest of the night. Claude is, admittedly, impressed, and decides that Felix must want this very badly. 

A deal is a deal. 

* * *

A deal may be a deal, but Felix has a lot to learn when it comes to setting rules and guidelines, Claude muses once he’s naked, on the bed, propped up on hands and knees, already prepped and stretched, as he patiently waits for what is to come. Felix, he reflects, doesn’t quite realize that Claude is perfectly capable of gaining the upper hand even while being fucked in two directions. 

But he’ll learn. 

Before that, though, Dimitri walks around the bed to stand in front of Claude. He crouches so that they are eye-level and asks, “Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” Claude assures him. “You haven’t fucked me yet this visit. I’ve missed the way you feel.” 

From somewhere off to the side, Felix snorts. 

Dimitri reaches out to stroke Claude’s cheek, reverently. “I need to be sure.” 

“I want this,” Claude tells him. “I want you. And I guess I want Felix, too.” 

Felix grumbles something in response, but right now, Claude only has eyes and ears for Dimitri, who kisses him passionately before moving to get into position behind him. 

“What happened to earning kisses?” Felix asks as he climbs on the bed in front of Claude. 

“By virtue of not lying about wanting to kiss me, Dimitri earned that kiss,” Claude replies, though it isn’t exactly true. There are times when kisses are earned, and times when they are freely given and taken; this is a different game from their usual fare, and as such, Dimitri has free reign. 

But Claude prefers to tease Felix in lieu of explaining all of that. 

“I’m shutting you up,” Felix announces. 

Claude opens his mouth invitingly. Felix guides his cock into it without any of Dimitri’s finesse or care. Claude would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the contrast. Meanwhile, Dimitri eases himself into Claude’s hole, gripping his hips as he applies a steady but careful pressure with his slickened cock. 

It’s a lot. Fucking him like this is a privilege reserved only for Dimitri when he wants to take it, which isn’t often as their visits are usually brief and focused elsewhere, so even though he’s prepared for this, Claude’s world momentarily shifts into a place of pure fullness, his mind blanking. He always seems to forget how much of Dimitri there is to take, and how it feels to have him filling him up so completely. 

It is Felix who brings him back to his senses by moving his cock in and out of Claude’s mouth, staring down at him while Claude tightens his lips and sucks, nice and hard, even allowing a small moan to reverberate in this throat. 

Dimitri moves carefully, still, but can’t help hitting that sweet spot as he does, forcing Claude to groan, unbidden, into Felix, his control nearly fraying. He, too, can be stubborn when he needs to be, though, so he makes sure to look up at Felix even as his fingers curl and his cock throbs for want of a touch. 

Felix looks at him, too, and Claude sees what he has been aiming for since this began: his defenses are lowered. There’s no scowl, no attempt at feigning anger. He’s enjoying himself, letting loose, enraptured with the way Claude’s breath hitches as Dimitri increases the speed of his thrusts. His expression is pure desire, and it looks so good on him, that Claude has to fight to keep himself from grabbing his cock and cumming to that very sight. 

He moans so he can see Felix lose himself to that pleasure, to give up everything he’s been trying to hold so close. Felix’s body begins to quiver as he presses himself as far into Claude’s mouth as he can. Claude sucks harder, driving him further to the edge. 

Then it’s time. Claude balances on three limbs instead of four so he can cup Felix’s balls (he didn’t say Claude couldn’t touch) and Dimitri recognizes that as his cue to say, “Cum for us, Fe,” using that old nickname just as Felix had used Dimitri’s a few nights prior. 

That’s all it takes for Felix to unravel, to give in completely, to cry out with unfettered pleasure as he cums into Claude’s mouth. The sounds are guttural, animalistic as they tear from his throat, his body giving way to pure instinctual reaction. Claude swallows as Felix falls against him, limbs now too loose to hold him up, shaking and moaning long after he has released everything he had. 

As Claude expected, Felix makes the most wonderful sounds when he allows himself to let go. 

He gives Felix a few moments to gather himself and pull away, during which Claude focuses very hard on maintaining his already thin control over his own body. Without Felix in his mouth to help keep him tethered to to the present moment, all Claude feels is Dimitri’s steadily urgent thrusting. 

When Felix seems coherent, Claude takes his hand and pulls it to his cock. “My turn,” he more gasps than says. Felix wraps his fingers around his cock and Dimitri drives against his sweet spot — that's all Claude needs to cum, hard and loud, sagging forward onto Felix and the bed, though Dimitri keeps a steady hold on his hips. He follows almost immediately thereafter, the way Claude writhes with his orgasm more than enough to push him over the edge. Warmth floods Claude’s insides as Dimitri cums, and then Dimitri joins him in resting with Felix. 

As soon as everyone settles into a state of relaxation, Felix moves to leave. 

“No,” Claude murmurs, hooking an arm around his waist to prevent him from leaving. “Tonight, you stay.” 

Felix struggles, though his attempts to break free lack energy. “For what?” 

Dimitri reaches for him too, tugging him down onto his back. “Affection.” 

“And this,” Claude says, albeit with effort, as he pulls himself up over Felix to kiss him, slowly, lips only, but lingering and attentive. Felix is receptive, parting his lips to accept the kiss. “Your reward,” Claude explains once he pulls back to lie his head on Felix’s chest. Dimitri moves to wrap his body around both Claude and Felix, an arm splayed over them. 

“For what?” Felix asks a second time, his tone subdued. He hasn’t put his guard back up yet; his spikes are still retracted. 

“For cumming so beautifully,” Claude mumbles, sleepily. “We might want to keep you after that.” 

Dimitri hums in agreement. “I have always wanted to keep him.” 

Instead of deflecting with embarrassment or annoyance, Felix’s fingers find Claude’s hair. There’s a moment of hesitation, and then he combs them through it. It is the first act of true tenderness that Felix has ever demonstrated in front of Claude, let alone _toward_ him, and Claude closes his eyes to enjoy it. 

“I guess that would be acceptable.” Felix’s voice is quiet — shy, even. 

“Then it’s settled,” Claude replies. “You’re ours.”


End file.
